Desperation
by Guardian Arrow
Summary: FE: Sacred Stones – Would you have the strength to live after you think the one you loved is gone? SethxEirika – Part 1 of 2


**Rating:** T

**Summary:** FE: Sacred Stones – Would you have the strength to live after you think the one you loved is gone? Romance/Tragedy SethxEirika – Part 1 of 2

**Author's Notes:** After an urge to write after reading many SethxEirika fics, I decided to try my hand at one again. I am sorry if my grammar is horrible. Hope it is suitable!

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Desperation

"_Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them."_

Seth slammed open the visor on his helmet with a loud clink, revealing quietly distressed eyes. In the confusion of battle he had lost her amidst the living and the dead. His horse skirted around the fallen, lifting and settling it's hooves with lithe grace. Seth looked for her steadily, trying to refrain from panic. He watched as Forde and Kyle double teamed a mage and a mercenary that had been plaguing Lute. He saw the blood flecked blue hair of his prince, Ephraim, and was grateful that he was indeed safe.

But where was Eirika?

Driving his heals impatiently into his charger's side, Seth drove forward amidst the brawl. Occasionally leaning to deal a deft stroke of the blade to a foe, he perused his way through the battlefield; his eyes constantly alight for a glimpse of the princess. No, _his _princess.

His outward appearance didn't portray a sliver of his inner skirmishing emotions. As he remained tense and alert on his horse, he was inwardly fighting thought filled foe after foe. Questions brandished their curved and biting swords. What if she was in danger? What if she was injured? What if she was…?

_No._

Seth commanded the flurry of thoughts to cease. He should not give way to such trifling emotions when he hadn't even confirmed her status. But then, he thought, why was this anger and frustration filling him?

Because he _didn't_ know her status. He just _didn't_ know.

Unconsciously leaning forward in the saddle, Seth drove onward, wind filling up the humid atmosphere of his helm.

And then he saw her as if brought about by not dreams, but by nightmares. She was tussling with two overwhelming axe wielders. Her hair was dingy with sweat, her eyes kindling and extinguishing an inner fire that propelled her to continue as blood seeped down her long legs. Seth watched with anticipation as she sidestepped a lethal swipe of a steel axe and flung out her rapier to hit the brigand in the back of the knee. But she stopped her fluid motion and tensed as the brigand flung out a large arm 

to strike her across the chest. Eirika flew a couple of feet before slamming against the damp earth, her head striking with particular sharpness.

That was it.

He tore his gaze away from the crumpled woman to bring the broadside of his sword down upon his horse's rump, frightening the beast into a charge. The hoof beats sounded like furious thunder and as Seth was nearly upon them, the two brutes looked up at him dumbstruck. Twirling it within his grasp, he swung it at the brigand with a ferocity that would have surprised even him if not the gravity of the situation. It sliced cleanly through skin and muscle, spurting crimson liquid into the deadened air and over the tail end of his horse. Pulling back forcefully on the reigns, Seth turned about and charged again. The second brigand stared at him dumbly before readying an axe. Like a man possessed, Seth felt natural instinct warp his knightly conduct. Teeth bared in a sickening sneer, Seth drove the sword down into the man's chest before letting go. The brigand swayed and toppled, falling upon the sword which then protruded from his back.

Reigning his horse into a stop, Seth breathed heavily. What had he done? He turned in his saddle to look back at the impaled brute, his own silver sword sticking menacingly out of tissue and bone. Seth grimaced. He had slipped yet again. No, he had to fix his biggest mistake – leaving the princess to her own devises.

Seth swiftly dismounted, his leather boots and greaves slamming into the earth with particular vengeance. Flinging his helm from his sweat ridden head, he took off at an off kilter run. His muscles groaned with each heavy step but Seth put it aside and raced to Eirika's side.

She was broken. Utterly broken.

He stood, half affixed in the horror of the situation before falling to his knees. Gloved hands twitched and flexed as he reached in terror towards her dirtied face. Blood was beading from litters of cuts and her hair splayed out tragically about her head like a fallen angel's halo. Seth noted that her arm lay at an odd angle, no doubt broken. Leaning down, he pushed away rogue strands of hair before placing his ear over her mouth. There were painful, little intakes and exhales of air most likely as a result of broken ribs. Propelled by a vision of hope, Seth yanked one of his gloves off with his teeth and placed two long fingers upon her neck. The beats were there…but terribly slow and fleeting.

She was dying.

His hands fell to the earth in defeat, his eyes deadened as he stared at her broken form. He was too late. Too late. The words ricocheted across his brain, tormenting his heart with sharp pokers of regret. _He_ was her knight. _He_ was supposed to protect her; he was supposed to die for her. She was not supposed to die in his stead. It was…not right.

Exactly similar to his corrupted feelings for her. He was supposed not to fall in love with her. But gradually through sweet smiles and even delicate caresses of care on the wound that still reigned within his shoulder from the horrible Valder, he felt himself falling in like within the princess.

Reaching down, Seth slipped his arms underneath her bleeding body and lifted her gently up and to his chest. He cradled her safely against him, wishing to breathe in the essence of her. However the sweet lavender smell that always accompanied her was gone left with the metallic smell of blood.

Was time on his side?

Was fate on his side?

Standing, Seth looked for Ephraim and spotted him a distance away, sifting through the corpses that littered the spring time ground. He took off at a jog, hoping not to jar her too much and cancel out whatever chance she had.

"Ephraim!"

Was that even his voice? It was so stressed, laden with a tasteless, soundless emotion. Grief.

The prince straightened up immediately, no doubt confused by his distress but probably because of his address, or lack thereof. Seth always used titles except in emergencies or Eirika's pleadings. He noted Ephraim's look of confusion be replaced rapidly with horror.

"Someone! A healer! Quickly!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, reaching for his sister cradled in her knight's arms.

Seth let him take her effortlessly. Ephraim glanced at him before turning swiftly away to find others who clamored at his shouts. A myriad of emotions flecked through the crimson eyes of the prince. Seth could see grief, horror, fear, and above all...disappointment.

He had failed her.

He let his arms fall to his sides as he stared emptily after them, left in a quiet desperation where the Silver Knight was at the mercy of his own inner demons. And here, no one would be able to save him from himself.

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**Author's Notes:** Wow. That was…rather short. XD Sorry for that. I hope that Seth wasn't OOC or too OOC. Meep. I hope this to be a two chapter fiction so that the summary makes sense. Lol Hope you enjoyed it! Your reviews will encourage a second installment. Flames are unacceptable. Thank you very much!


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